


my insides are rubies i'll let you see

by maybewewererotten



Series: from forgotten womb to stone-cut tomb (and everything in between) [1]
Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Alternate Universe - Gender Changes, Alternate Universe - High School, Endgame Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier, F/F, Fem Reddie, Sonia Kaspbrak's A+ Parenting, lesbian reddie, religious trauma
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-03
Updated: 2020-07-03
Packaged: 2021-03-04 22:08:42
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,417
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25043674
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/maybewewererotten/pseuds/maybewewererotten
Summary: “Hey, I know this is weird,” Richie sobered the slightest bit. “But I feel like we’ve met before, like before Bev.”Eddie nodded. She knew they had clicked, with the banter and the jokes, they fit together like two puzzle pieces, but there was something about Richie that held a vibrant fog over her mind. She turned over to face Richie.“Maybe we’re just supposed to be friends. Like that one myth about the red string.” Eddie trailed off slightly embarrassed.“The red string of fate?”Eddie nodded.
Relationships: Beverly Marsh & Richie Tozier, Eddie Kaspbrak & Richie Tozier, Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier
Series: from forgotten womb to stone-cut tomb (and everything in between) [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1813738
Comments: 2
Kudos: 47





	my insides are rubies i'll let you see

**Author's Note:**

> come say hi on tumblr!
> 
> @maybewewererotten

Richie never meant to stare, really.

It was just that the window of Bevan's room overlooked the front yards of the houses below at the perfect angle, and every Monday when the two of them got together to do homework (and to gossip about their year) there was a girl in one of the yards below.

The second yard from Bev's apartment complex to be exact. Like clockwork, she would leave her house ten minutes after they had settled in the room, Richie taking her un-offically official spot at Bev's desk by the window, and Bev sitting on his bed with a splay of papers he would pretend to read when his dad walked by his door.

The girl was small, even smaller from the hundreds of feet between them, and she had short brown hair, either in two bundles right below her ears or bouncing free, held away from her face with colorful barrettes. Some days she was outfitted in a full array of safety gear and high socks, rollerskating up and down her street. Some days she would wear shorts and a loose t-shirt, laying in the shade of the tree out front, reading comics or novels until she was called inside. Some days she would just lounge on her porch, staring wistfully at the sky. Her eyes would gaze up at the clouds with wonder, and Richie would hope she saw the same horse or car or heart in the clouds that she did, that it may brighten up the solemn look on her face for even the smallest second.

Every single one of those days, Richie watched her, like there was an invisible string drawing her attention. She knew it was kind of creepy, but she couldn’t shake the feeling. Bev had called her out more than once for the habit-turned-small-obsession that distracted from their conversation about Greta's new car or Henry Bowers’ latest suspension.

"Rich, if you want to talk to her just do it," and Richie wanted to. She truly did but every scenario she crafted in her head ended in the girl glaring at her, or slapping her, or calling her a creep, or slamming the door and Richie would never know why she was so familiar or why she wanted to hold her hand.

"Bev," Richie sighed, standing up to deliver her monologue. Bev looked at her, but remained quiet to let her yearn.

"She's cute. Bev, you don't understand she is so  _ fucking _ cute that every time I look at her my insides turn to  _ mush _ ."

Richie grabbed her friend's hand, kneeling at the bed below her. Her friend still looked unphased.

"If she looked at me I could die. I could keel over in shock from seeing her face so close. I could ascend to the next realm from being in the same vicinity as a literal  _ angel _ . I don't even know her name!" Richie finished throwing herself back on her floor, and Bev looked down at his friend, thoroughly unimpressed.

"Her name is Eddie."

Richie grabbed a pillow and shrieked into it, earning a look from Bev's mom, who was walking past the door with a hamper of laundry.

Bev sighed, closing his binder of unfinished conversions. 

"Come on." 

Richie sat up, her interest peaked.

"What?" 

"We're going for a walk."

Richie looked at him and accepted her fate.

"Bevan Marsh, you are going to be the death of me."

Bev led them down the stairs of the fire escape, cutting across the small field between the complex and the neighborhood, and like a bodyguard or some tall amazonian prince who liked to play god, he took to the sidewalk with Richie’s gangly body in tow. 

"Hey, Eddie," Bev called down the street. Eddie was on skates today. Her socks were white, reaching just below the elastic of her knee pads. Her skirt flared from her waist, stopping midthigh. Richie felt her brain shatter and she forgot how to form a sentence.

"Hey!" She rolled over to the curb, using the toe stops to step into the grass. She wobbled a bit as she found her footing, and Richie's mind just about exploded from the cuteness. 

"Did you hear what Ms. Finch was saying after class today?" Eddie asked Bev. He nodded.

"Yeah, something about a field trip next month?" 

Eddie hummed a confirmation, and her eyebrows knit together. The lines displayed her constant state of worry.

"I think she was talking about taking us to an art studio. I doubt my mom would let me go, though, she already thinks the clay has too much dirt or something." She frowned. "Will you tell me how it is?"

Bev nodded sympathetically. "F'course, but I'm sure she'll let you. Maybe just don't tell her about the kilning room?" Eddie snorted as a response, before finally paying attention to the tall girl standing next to Bev. Richie was still wrapping her head around her best friend’s friendly exchange with the subject of her most hopeless fantasies. 

"You're Rachel, right?" 

Richie gaped for a second, earning a sharp elbow in her ribs from her best friend.

"Uh yeah," she composed herself. "But you can call me Richie, like Richard but without the Dick." 

She mentally facepalmed herself and could see Bev doing the same, but Eddie stifled a giggle, trying her best to look unimpressed, but she couldn’t fight the grin. 

"I'm sorry, she doesn't have a filter for all the trash that comes through her mouth," Bev tried to apologize, but Eddie waved it away.

"It's alright," she smiled. "I think I expected that much from someone who was sent to the nurse for trying to snort two cartons of chocolate milk out of her nose on purpose." 

Richie paled at the memory and tinged pink.

"You heard about that?"

"I was in the office for some meds when they phoned down to warn the nurse. Is making bad decisions a regular thing with you?"

Richie finger gunned, winking at her.

"You know it, Eds."

"That's not my name."

"Well, duh, it's a nickname."

"Eddie is already a nickname."

"Then we can call it a nick-nickname. What is Eddie short for anyway?"

As if on cue, a high pitched yell from the white storm door of her house called for her.

"Edith, get in here!"

The playful smile on her face fell into a resigned pout.

"I'm coming!" She yelled before turning back to Bev and Richie.

"I've got to go, you know how she gets." Bev nodded. "But I'll see you in school right?" 

"Totally! Maybe we can start work on that conjoined pottery piece tomorrow!" Bev seemed to be trying to cheer her up, but all he got was a sad but appreciative smile. Eddie turned to Richie.

"It was nice to meet you, I'll see you around?" The question was hopeful, and Richie felt her nervousness quell just the slightest bit.

"I'd like to see you try and get rid of me now." Eddie rolled her eyes at that, smiling a little bit, before she turned to the sidewalk. As she rolled up the driveway, her skirt swished artistically around her hips, and she raised a hand at them before unhappily disappearing into the house. Richie watched her until the door was closed, and then turned to Bev.

"Why the  _ fuck  _ didn't you tell me you two were all buddy buddy?"

Bev chuckled.

"It was funnier not to."

Richie groaned dramatically, and they turned back to the apartments to pack up their forgotten schoolwork. Bev stopped her for a second.

" _ Like Richard but without the Dick?" _ Bev mocked.

"I panicked!"

* * *

The Thursday after, Richie was walking home, with her walkman blaring and her eyes cast down into the latest issue of _ Wonder Woman _ . She looked up at the very last second to collide with Eddie, who was carrying a stack of books half as tall as she was, and a sturdy black instrument case that unintentionally collided with Richie's kneecap. They both hit the ground.

"Eddie Spaghetti!" Richie exclaimed. Eddie groaned, flopping back down on the concrete. Her pale yellow sweater contrasted the grey cement, and she looked like sunshine on earth.

"What is it with you and bad nicknames?"

"They're terms of endearment!"

"They sound like  _ McDonald's _ characters."

"Spaghetti, the Hamburgler would be jealous of you," Richie pinched Eddie's cheek, internally dying at the cuteness. Her cheeks and nose dusted a light pink, and she swatted her away to gather her things.

"Fuck off," she retorted, handing Richie the comic, and Richie gave her the instrument case in return.

"Watcha play?"

"Trombone," Eddie deadpanned, taking the case that was about as long as Richie's forearm.

Richie slapped her knee.

"Eds gets off a good one!" She crowed to no one in particular and Eddie tried to ignore the heat in her face that refused to calm.

"Are you heading home?" Eddie attempted to ignore The other girl's hysterics. She finally calmed down enough to reply.

"Yeah, I've got a long night of video games and orange soda ahead of me."

"You know that stuff rots your teeth right?" 

Richie grinned at her, showcasing her straight white teeth.

"Dear old dad is a dentist. It has its perks."

Eddie just rolled her eyes again, but still asked.

"Do you want to go to the library with me? I mean, assuming you're not banned?" She fidgeted with the strap of her bag. 

Richie gasped.

"Lil' ol' me? I would be  _ delighted _ , Spaghetti." 

Eddie sighed. 

"Am I going to regret this?"

Richie threw an arm around her shoulders, realizing she was almost an entire head taller.

"Most definitely." She responded gleefully before pausing.

"Hey but what is that thing?" 

"It's a flute, you weirdo. What else is that small?"

* * *

The library was almost silent when they got there, save for the rifling of pages by the woman at the front desk who looked much too delighted to see Eddie.

"Edith! What a delight! How's Sonia?" 

Eddie gave her a tight-lipped smile. 

"Mom's doing good, we haven't been too busy lately." 

"Well, that's good to hear!" The old woman's voice was sickly sweet like rotting caramel. "Tell her I said hi!"

"Of course, Miss," Eddie ducked her head, dragging Richie before her new friend became another topic for conversation.

"That lady looked  _ just  _ like Yzma!" Richie whispered hysterically as they walked briskly down the aisle of nonfiction. Eddie just gave her an exasperated look.

" _ Yzma? _ " She hissed.

"Yeah, you know that chick from the emperor movie? Her eyelashes were like spider legs!"

Eddie shuddered at the thought, and kept leading them through the aisles until they found themselves in a crevice near the back of the library. It was softly lit, and had one big armchair, overstuffed and wide enough to fit them both. Eddie collapsed into it, letting the tension seep out of her body.

Richie tentatively sat next to her, careful not to get too close, even though she really wanted to know what it was like to hold her close on a couch all alone.

"Do you know everybody in this town or do you just have a thing with old ladies?"

Eddie raised her eyebrow.

"She goes to church with my mom. I hate her."

Richie nodded, understanding. Her close family wasn’t religious and were accepting enough that she could praise Uma Thurman without a second glance, but she also knew that living in Derry was a death sentence for anyone just the slightest bit different.

"Jesus club never sounded like a ball."

"Shut up!" Eddie pushed her lightly, but she had started laughing. “That’s sacrilegious.” She dissolved into giggles.

"Does your mom have one of the cross walls like they have in the south?" Richie questioned, mostly joking, but Eddie's eyes widened in horror.

" _ Yes _ , I hate it! Imagine waking up every morning and having to go downstairs to be reminded to  _ repent for your sins _ !" Richie felt the sudden urge to bundle Eddie up and run her far away from this hateful place, but she had nothing to base it off but her own personal experience.

Her old friend, Connie Bowers, had lived in a home filled with hate and crosses. She didn’t like to think about it.

"At least you don't need to worry about leaving room for Jesus if you have an entire wall!"

Eddie huffed. "That wasn’t even a joke. It was sad."

Richie gasped.

"Excuse you, I’m hilarious. I bet I’m the funniest person you’ve ever met!" Eddie raised her eyebrows at Richie’s hubris, but didn’t argue.

They kept talking, until they lost track of time. Richie learned Eddie was an only child, and had an overbearing mother to add to the pain. Living alone with a woman who wouldn’t let her touch dirt or grass until she turned ten sounded worse than a padded room.

"She's just always there! Yesterday I was just trying to make toast and she told me if I put too much butter I was going to have a heart attack! Or I would burn our house down! I get that she just cares, but it’s  _ so much _ . I swear I won’t die from the wind blowing"

"No offense, Eds, but you seem like you could outlast the sun out of pure spite."

Eddie glared at the nickname but appreciated the sentiment.

“I don’t want to go home yet,” she confessed.

"Do you want to come over?" Richie suddenly blurted out, cringing at her forwardness. 

Eddie froze for a second, chewing on her lip before answering. 

"That depends: is your house's interior design as outlandish as your wardrobe?"

Richie looked down at her yellow converse, mismatched socks, and lobster print button-down. 

"I'll have you know Margaret and Wentworth Tozier have a home worthy of the queen. I'm just the jester."

Eddie nodded, smiling a bit in the soft library lighting. Her hazel eyes twinkled in the light, making eye contact with Richie's stormy blue ones. She nodded.

"You’ve got an astounding amount of self-awareness." Eddie couldn’t be further from the truth.

* * *

Richie's house was a few blocks from the library. They walked in comfortable silence, and Richie kept sneaking glances at Eddie. She looked away any time Eddie looked back at her.

"Mom! Are you home yet?" Richie called into the house as she opened the front door. 

"I've been home since you  _ should've  _ been home," was called back, and from down the hall, a tall woman with the same curly black hair as Richie emerged. It was a bit longer than Richie's and held back with a claw clip, opposed to Richie's shoulder-length bob that was tied half up with an obnoxiously colored scrunchie, but the resemblance was uncanny. The older woman was curvier and classier, with laughter lines decorating her face, but they smiled the same way when they saw each other.

"And where exactly have you been?"

Richie shrugged lazily, dropping her bag. "Anywhere and everywhere at once."

Maggie Tozier sighed, pulling her daughter into a hug. Her eyes settled on the new person in their home, the ghost of recognition on her face.

"Are you going to introduce me to your new friend?"

Richie looked back at Eddie, who was standing awkwardly behind her.

"Oh, this is Eddie! I found her on the side of the road in a cardboard box. I know it's sudden but can we keep her? I’ve done the research and I think I’m ready to carry the responsibility."

"I think I need to go," Eddie looked Richie dead in the eye, but her statement was empty. She almost looked humored. Richie grinned.

"It's nice to meet you, Eddie," Maggie welcomed her deeper into the house. "I'm glad to see Richie still knows how to make friends with that attitude of hers." 

"It's nice to meet you too, you have a lovely home."

Maggie smiled appreciatively.

"Thank you, dear. Richie, don't scare her away too soon, I like this one." Eddie beamed at the praise, and Richie looked offended.

"I would  _ never!  _ Do you take me for a scoundrel, mother?" 

She just ruffled Richie's hair fondly. Before shooing them away.

" _ That's your mother?" _ Eddie hissed at her as they turned toward the stairs.

"Yeah?"

"She's so," she trailed off. "Cool."

Richie nodded. "She's one of the coolest people I know, I mean, besides you, Spaghetti." She leaned down to pinch her cheek again. Eddie wrinkled her nose.

"This entire thing was a ploy. I think I'd rather be friends with Maggie." 

They reached the top of the stairs to the attic, and Richie led her into the room, throwing herself on the bed.

"Eds! You wound me! How do you know I haven't been using you to get to  _ your  _ mother? She's irresistible." Richie closed her eyes for effect, mimicking bliss and Eddie threw a paperback at her from her stack.

"That's disgusting!" she shrieked.

"It's the truth," Richie sighed dreamily.

"You've never even met my mother, Trashmouth." Richie responded to the name with a bark of laughter.

“Don’t remind me, I would never be able to say goodbye,” Richie earned herself another paperback in the stomach, and Eddie joined her on the bed to pelt her with pillows until they were both giggling messes.

Richie’s face was sore from smiling, and Eddie could feel her cheeks burning. Eddie looked  _ so familiar. _ The recognition was deeper than her face. Her presence was deeper.

“Hey, I know this is weird,” Richie sobered the slightest bit. “But I feel like we’ve met before, like before Bev.”    
  
Eddie nodded. She knew they had clicked, with the banter and the jokes, they fit together like two puzzle pieces, but there was something about Richie that held a vibrant fog over her mind. She turned over to face Richie.

“Maybe we’re just supposed to be friends. Like that one myth about the red string.” Eddie trailed off slightly embarrassed.

“The red string of fate?”

Eddie nodded, looking at her friend through her eyelashes. 

“I was, uh,” Richie started, turning to look away in embarrassment. “I was watching you, uh, before Bev dragged me down there.”

Eddie watched her, holding onto her emotions to let her continue.

“You always look so fucking cute-,” she got cut off.

“I’m  _ not _ cute.”

  
  
Richie shushed her.

“Yes you are, let me gush over you.” Eddie gave a resigned sigh, and Richie shifted until they were both facing each other with their knees bumping together. 

“You know, I never really had a lot of friends before Bev,” Eddie told her. “It was just me and Billie and Stan. I guess I just mean,” she struggled to find her words. “I’m glad he introduced us. I was watching you too. I kept asking him about you.” Eddie smiled sheepishly.

“Bevan likes to meddle, but 9 out of 10 times, it turns out alright in the end,” Richie laughed.

“Only ninety percent?” Eddie asked.

“The other ten percent is definitely user error a la Richie.”

  
  
They kept talking until the sun started to fall from its height in the distance. 

“I should probably get home,” Eddie said looking out the window. Richie saw the hesitation in her words, but there was still an insistence that she forced through like she had to pull rough tumbled gemstones through her throat while relishing in their grounding weight.

“I can walk you home.” 

Eddie smiled at her. “I would appreciate that.” 

Richie recognized the internal struggle Eddie was going through. She saw it every day when Bev would have to choose between going home to his possibly day-drunk father, or risk an angry fit later that night if he wasn’t home before sunset. She felt a sudden hatred towards Sonia Kaspbrak but smothered its glowing embers.

Eddie packed her stuff up, and they left. Richie hollered to her mom that she would be back soon, and ushered Eddie out the door while the sun was still present. The arm around Eddie’s shoulders didn’t leave when they cleared the doorway, and Eddie leaned into it slightly, enjoying the heat of Richie’s body. They fit together.

Richie didn’t know Eddie as well as she would have liked to, but there was a transparency to her that only Richie could see. Her tanned skin held onto the heat of the sky, blushing a soft ruby in the fading light. Being so close lit her skin on fire.  _ Crushes are awful _ she thought to herself, and she led them both, walking into the night

**Author's Note:**

> for future reference, i wrote this imagining them as seniors in high school
> 
> if you got this far, thank you for reading!


End file.
